


The Name of Every Star

by misaffection



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-30
Updated: 2011-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misaffection/pseuds/misaffection
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hates to hold him to what he once was, as much as she hates him calling her Qetesh. But she thinks it was different for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Name of Every Star

Vala stands at a viewpoint. Stars stretch out from her vantage point of a stolen Al’kesh in orbit of a blue-green planet that resembles Earth enough to give her pause.

It’s not that she regrets her decision. Baal – _Elias_ – was right about the how tenuous her place with SG1 would be had she returned. The only thing that had held her was Daniel and that... well, she’d gotten nowhere with him. Moving on had been the right choice. Not that it’s easy for knowing that.

She feels him enter the room: the naquadah in her blood hums at the proximity of that in his. It’s not as strong as it was, but stronger than she’d expected. He continues to surprise her, even now.

Her eyes go back to the stars.

“You know exactly where we are, don’t you?”

He told her that he doesn’t remember, but she knows that’s a lie. He remembers, all right. He knows. The Tok’ra let the greatest repository of Goa’uld knowledge slip right through their fingers.

Vala turns to him. He’s smiling, eyes bright.

“Perhaps,” he says. “Why do you ask?”

“I want to know who you were.”

He huffs a laugh. “‘Were’ is the operative term, Vala. Does it truly matter anymore?”

It does and it doesn’t. She hates to hold him to what he once was, as much as she hates him calling her Qetesh. But she thinks it was different for him. Why, she doesn’t know; she just has a feeling.

“You don’t seem to have changed that much,” she remarks. “Which makes me think there isn’t that much difference.”

Elias shrugs. It’s so hard to put that name to him when he still looks like Baal. Acts like him, as well. There really isn’t much difference.

“I know.” His eyes settle on the view and Vala knows he’s finally answering her question. “And you know, should you wish to accept it.”

 _Easier said than done_ , she thinks. “Are you really a clone?”

Brown eyes stare at her. “I am. However this version didn’t... ah, what is that quaint human term? Ah yes, didn’t fall too far from the tree.”

A tremble wracks her, because the original was dangerous. Is, if he really _is_ still alive and well. She folds her arms.

“Talking of, you said he was still alive.”

“He could be. Honestly? I don’t know either way.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

Elias’ smile is cold and hard. “The Tok’ra have made me less of a threat. If he is still alive, then I’m the last of his targets. He’ll leave me alone and I most certainly will do the same.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” She steps back, distancing herself from him: in this mood he seems more dangerous than Baal ever did. “Attracting his attention doesn’t seem wise.”

“He’ll leave us alone.” The corner of his mouth pulls into that very familiar smirk. “That is, if he is still alive.”

Vala nods, though she hopes more than she agrees. She’d not even considered the original

“Are you really the one I... spoke to?”

His dark expression changes in an instant, fury morphing to something infinitely more dangerous. “Maybe,” he says, dragging the word out playfully. “I _do_ know about it, after all.”

“Connective memory,” she says, dismissing it.

But now she’s brought that little interaction up, it seems he doesn’t want to be diverted – he closes in on her, hunger glinting in his eyes. She licks her lips, a nervous gesture he follows avidly.

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug. “We are away from both the Tok’ra and the Tau’ri. There are no cameras here. So...” He trails a finger down the column of her neck. “We are truly free to enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Baal,” she says. _Shit, no._ “I mean-”

“Either,” he murmurs. “I don’t share your need to shed my previous existence.”

 _Well that’s plain enough_ , she thinks as he integrates himself fully into her personal space. She wanted to know who he is and now she knows. She half wishes the Tok’ra knew how wrong they were on this, then his mouth covers hers and she can’t think about anything.

Her arms go around his neck of their own accord. He knows what he’s doing and it makes her toes curl. One hand holds her hip – exactly as he had in the cell, she notes distantly – the other cups her head. His finger twine in her hair and she gives a soft moan.

“Tell me,” she manages as his lips trace her jawline. “You know the name of every constellation we can see. I want-” Her voice cracks and she shudders against him. “Tell me what they are.”

He pulls away, eyes reflecting the stars. “As you wish,” he says and turns her to the window.

And he tells her the names. Every one, until her mind spins from the extent of his knowledge as much as her body trembles at his knowing touch.

By the time he’s done, she’s long forgotten what she regretted.


End file.
